


marry me, now

by house_arya



Series: He'll Always Be Yours [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, Like, but whatever here's day two, i'm a little late on posting seeing as day four is starting, now, sorry that was disgusting, yeehaw part two lessgo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 10:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_arya/pseuds/house_arya
Summary: part ii/vii for arya x gendry week 2019. please read the first part in this series, "let's run away," first! enjoy.





	marry me, now

– _marry me, now_

“Might I fetch you another slice of bread, miss?” The boy had dark green eyes that glowed with mischief, his lips twitching upwards. Arya studied him for a moment, before nodding her head. He turned around the table and dashed behind the counter, vanishing into the kitchen. Arya swallowed the last remnants of her eggs and glanced sullenly about the room.**  
**

It was warm – and brightly lit – unlike the last time she was here with the Hound. It was strange to be back, and stranger still that Gendry of all people was here. She had last seen him just before the Red Wedding, right when she had been kidnapped.

After that day, she vowed never to be taken again. And so she trained and worked herself bloody to learn the skills of the Faceless Men. She had arrived at Braavos a child and left a warrior.

She thought it amusing that she should end up at the same place Gendry settled at. Ironic, but still a cruel joke by the Many-Faced God. She spent _years_ trying to forget that face. Desperately trying to forget that stupid smile and stupid laugh. The entire situation was utterly and ridiculously _stupid_.

Maybe she hadn’t left Braavos after all. Maybe she was on a fool’s errand to come back and save the remainder of her family. But was Gendry part of her pack still?

_Was he ever part of your pack?_ A voice inside sneered at her, taunting and unmerciful as ever. _Shut up_, she replied. 

She spent the rest of the morning exploring the area, poking around the High Road. Arya hadn’t accounted for finding Gendry here, or _anywhere_, for that matter. She just needed a place to stay for the night to wait out that brutal storm. Had Gendry not been here, she would’ve been on her way the moment the storm let up. She needed to reach the Wall as quickly as possible, and yet she wasted half a day nonetheless.

She might be too late by the time she actually made it there.

Thoughts of Gendry and home and the horrible truth she had realized in Essos plagued her mind for the whole day. She should’ve saddled her horse and rode off, but she couldn’t leave him. Could she?

Somehow, Arya found her way to the forge by early evening, just as the sun began to dip behind the surrounding trees. She watched him stare intently at the helm before him for several minutes as he pounded away. He let out a yelp when he accidentally struck his thumb, dancing away from his workstation. 

“Careful. Don’t want to lose those hands of yours,” she said, trying not to laugh. “‘M fine,” he grumbled, shaking his thumb lightly. Arya could only snort; she learned that lesson with steel the hard way.

“No, you’re not. It’s open and you’ve been working with metal. You need to clean that.” He huffed unhappily, but stretched out his palm nevertheless as she drew near him. She retrieved her vial of firemilk and took great care to dab it gently, remembering how the potion seemed to burn her own wounds worse than any actual injury she ever sustained.

Arya saw him clench his other fist to keep from squirming. She admired the brave face he put on. The first time she used it, tears stung her eyes. It did not take long to apply, but the feeling of his hand in hers was almost too good to let go of.

Gendry was not just a blacksmith. (And even if he was, he was _her _blacksmith, just like Mikken at Winterfell had been.) But Gendry was so very different than Mikken. Gendry was warmth and sturdiness. He was a certain kind of strength, and the lingering smell of grease and smoke felt like home. 

With a start, Arya realized she was still holding his hand. She stepped away, intending to release it at once, but he pulled her close to him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Her breath hitched, but she recovered almost instantaneously and twirled away from him. His eyes were stormy, just as it had been the previous night. Then she remembered what she had come here for in the first place.

“I have a proposition for you,” she began. “Why don’t we run away?” Gendry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m traveling North. I could use someone on the road with me.” He continued to stare. “Just to watch my back,” she hastily added.

“Arya, I…” Gendry screwed his eyes shut, struggling to respond. “They need me here, Arya. I can’t just leave.” She nodded sympathetically, biting the inside of her cheek before taking a step back. 

_You wouldn’t be my family._

“No, it’s fine. I get it,” she said. “I’ve stayed here too long. I’ll be leaving in the morning.” _Or in the middle of the night, when you won’t be there to change my mind._ Gendry avoided her gaze and stared at his feet before looking up to her, just like Bran used to. That didn’t matter though. All that mattered was that she reached the Wall before it was too late. 

He finally looked up to her and gestured to the helmet before him. “Well, I should… get back to work, I guess,” he said. Arya dipped her head, but hesitated: “Why are you making a Lannister helmet?”

Gendry ran his non-injured hand through his coarse, black hair and sighed. “I’ve been making helmets for every house I could think of. For protection. Just in case some noble passes by and wants some declaration of loyalty or some gift… I would have something to give them.” 

Arya peered around him and saw in the corner a helm with great, bronze antlers that reached towards the heavens, as well as a second that bore the snarling mouth of a wolf and glassy, hardened eyes. Her breath caught as she recognized its likeness, her house sigil. Great, beautiful, and _dangerous_ were the Stark children’s direwolves. Arya could almost feel the sensation of wind ruffling in her fur. 

Gendry must’ve noticed that her attention fell on the helmet, so he retrieved it for her and practically thrust it into her hands. She gently grasped it, running her hands over the smooth grey metal. In its carved eyes, she saw Grey Wind and Robb, Lady and Sansa, Summer and Bran, Shaggydog and Rickon. But most of all, she saw Ghost and Jon. 

Gods above, she missed them all.

Arya swallowed thickly and handed the helmet back to Gendry, turning her back to him and leaving the forge without another word.

She had a lot of thinking to do.

* * *

Arya had officially gotten a room once one opened up. It was small, but it would work well enough. She peeled off her exterior coat and flung it across the room, marching towards her satchel. Tucked inside was her proof that the dead were walking. She opened up the parchment, just to see that it was still there.

She eventually slunk downstairs, hoping to snag a small piece of bread before dinner. She flitted from corner to corner, willing herself to remain unseen. _Just for practice_, she told herself. It wasn’t that she intended to eavesdrop on Jeyne and Gendry, but that’s exactly what happened, anyway.

“…needs to leave, Gendry.”  
“We can’t just…”  
“Yes, we can.”

There was a moment of silence, and for every moment that dragged on, her heart seemed to beat faster.

“Will you marry me?”

Her heartbeat skipped. There was no answer. _Please, please say no, Gendry. Say no._

The silence persisted, and Arya’s heart was screaming for her to interrupt, to drag Gendry away from this place where he had to live in fear, away from Jeyne and her husband-and-wife fantasy, away from a life without Arya in it.

_I lost you once Gendry, I don’t know if I could lose you again._

“We’ve…we’ve been over this before. You know I can’t.”  
“You mean you won’t. You want to abandon us all for that girl.”  
“For fuck’s sake, Jeyne, I just…Gods!”

Arya heard shuffling coming her way and immediately darted off, dashing out of the kitchen and into the yard. She checked on her horse, trying to plot the rest of her journey up north. She would most likely have to stop near Moat Cailin, but it would still be best if she veered east of The Kingsroad. There would be too many eyes watching the road. 

Her concentration broke when she heard Gendry calling out her name. She stepped out from the makeshift stable, boots crunching on the dried hay. His face was red, but his eyes carried a gleam of determination that she hadn’t seen from him before.

“I’ll come with you. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

_I will be your family._

“Good,” she said, putting a hand on the hilt of Needle, “The world’s about to end.” If the news she bore hadn’t been so grim, she would have laughed at the mere look on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> WHEW glad that's done. I'm going to be busy at the end of this week so everything is just going to be late, and that's all. Drop a comment so I can improve/know what I did well! This chapter was very hurried so it's not the greatest but oh well  
Also I'm super excited to share what Arya learned during her time in Essos ;)


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